


The Trend is Irreversible

by Polaris



Series: Blue Sky Blue [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Don't eat the Kree condiments, Kraglin is so awkward bless him, Multi, Not A Fix-It, Post-Movie(s), Yondu is dead but he doesn't let that stop him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaris/pseuds/Polaris
Summary: There's been plenty of times Kraglin's wondered how, exactly, he'd gotten himself into all kinds of ridiculous shit. Right now, staring up into the glaring lights of the Kree ship whose guns are all trained on him, he’s really regretting being a sucker for pretty blue faces.





	The Trend is Irreversible

There's been plenty of times Kraglin's wondered how, exactly, he'd gotten himself into all kinds of ridiculous shit. Wrangling Terran kids. Attacking a Kree battleship armed with an Infinity Stone. Accidentally doing a mutiny against the man he loved. Attacking a living planet. Letting a three foot tall fuzzy genetic hybrid perform brain surgery on him. Screaming down the hallways of the Quadrant with Drax bellowing after him with the arrow still sticking out of his shoulder. Taking on side jobs with a daughter of Thanos.

Right now, staring up into the glaring lights of the Kree ship whose guns are all trained on him, he’s really regretting being a sucker for pretty blue faces.

\---

“Get up.”

A few days before the latest spat of ridiculous shit, Kraglin had been fast asleep in his bed. Warm. Comfy. The sheets were even clean since Gamora had made a rule about stripping the beds once a week.

And then he'd felt a steely grip on his ankle. A second later he'd been unceremoniously yanked out of bed.

“What the hell?” he yelped, scrambling to cover his holey underwear as Nebula stared down at him imperiously. 

“Get dressed. I have a job.”

Kraglin stared blankly. “Congrats?” he tried.

Her eyes narrowed. “It requires two people.”

“Okay?” Kraglin scratched at his chest hair, peering up at her.

She scoffed after a moment and looked away to take in his room. Kraglin had the stray thought to be embarrassed about his dirty clothes laying on the floor next to the bed. “I could be wrong,” she said. “I thought you'd be pleased to get away from here.” Those black eyes turned and fixed on him, pinning him in place.

For a second he couldn't breathe past the lump in his throat. He nodded. 

Nebula nodded back. “I already told my sister I was taking you. Quill didn't like it.” She scowled.

“Quill don't tell me what to do,” scoffed Kraglin. He may call Peter captain now, but he also remembered having to explain to the kid what it meant when your dick got hard. 

“Good. We can leave as soon as you get dressed.” Nebula crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

“Uhhhh....” Kraglin swallowed. He wasn't a prude, but he was pretty sure flashing your balls through the holes in your undies wasn't something you did to a girl like Nebula. “Great. I'll get right on that. If ya don't mind closin’ the door?”

“What?” Nebula looked down at his lap and the scrap of his dirty shirt he'd been clutching over it. “Oh. Fine. Five minutes!”

Kraglin dug a finger in his ear after she left, frowning. He wiped the gunk off on his shirt, sniffed it, shrugged, and pulled it on. 

Guess he had a job to do. Alone. With Nebula.

\---

He'd debated taking the arrow. He wasn't so good with it yet, and besides that, something in him balked at the thought of anything happening to it. He caressed his fingers across the smooth metal, giving a second to the hole in his gut before he slid it into the holster he'd added to his jumpsuit. Captain would have chewed him out good for leaving a weapon behind. It hummed against his leg with an almost unnoticeable energy, lighting up the fin he still couldn't get used to. He tapped a finger against it as he walked, enjoying the faint buzzing in his brain.

Nebula was waiting next to her M-ship. “I told you five minutes,” she said, giving him that intense stare again.

She was gonna kill him and leave him out in space. Kraglin knew it. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don't be late again.” She climbed in, clearly expecting him to follow her.

He did.

“So, where we goin’ anyhow? You didn't tell me what this job is.” He buckled in, watching her run her last minute checks before the hangar depressurized.

“Hostage retrieval,” she answered briskly. “A Shi’ar politician was taken by a Kree Accuser. Her wife is offering a reward for her safe return. We will need to be stealthy. That is why I didn't want any of those other idiots coming along. They are incapable of subtlety.”

Kraglin snorted in spite of himself. It earned him a conspiratorial look that might almost have been a smile. Then the gist of what she'd said sunk in. “A Kree Accuser? You outta your mind?”

The ship lurched forward out the airlock, stars surrounding them. There was no going back.

“Relax. We will intercept them at one of the outposts. They will not be expecting retaliation of our caliber.” Nebula plotted in their course and guided them toward the jump point.

Kraglin didn't like this at all. They'd always stayed well clear of the Kree as long as he'd served with Yondu, and for good reason. They were dangerous and they had armies. “What'd this lady do t’ get herself nabbed by an Accuser?”

“Does it matter?” Nebula glanced at him. “The payment is seventy five thousand units.”

“Ain't bad split between two,” Kraglin allowed.

She nodded.

Kraglin waited, but she didn't seem likely to add to the conversation. He was beginning to figure out she wasn't much of a talker, Nebula. Girl said her piece and then sat back to stare at you. Nothing like Yondu, who could shoot the shit with the best of ‘em.

Kraglin still missed him so much his whole chest hurt. 

“Any luck with killin’ your dad?” he asked, because he couldn't think of anything better.

Nebula’s jaw tightened. “No,” she said shortly. 

“Oh. That's too bad.” Kraglin looked out the front viewport.

“I did get a pretty necklace.”

He whipped his head around to look at her and something in his neck twinged painfully. “Ow, fuck. You did?”

Nebula frowned at him. “Yes.” She reached down the front of her bodysuit (Kraglin found somewhere else for his eyes to look) and fished out a pendant. She held it out toward him with an impatient look.

It was just about the tackiest fucking thing he'd ever seen (that wasn't quite true; the troll doll had stared down at him from Yondu's headboard for months after Quill had pulled a fast one on them after Xandar). She'd obviously picked it up from some shitty tourist trap in Nova space. The holographic pendant showed a tiny supernova that blew up when you tilted it the right way.

“Ooh, that's nice,” he said automatically, having learned the correct response to Yondu's ugly shit years ago.

She looked pleased as she tucked the necklace back in. “Thank you.”

She was a weird girl, Nebula.

\---

The outpost Nebula piloted them toward was far enough inside Kree space to make Kraglin jumpy. It was populated mostly by colonized people, without a big military presence to worry about. Aside from the Accuser they were about to rescue a hostage from.

“Ain't you wanted by the Kree?” he asked.

“I'm wanted by everyone,” she retorted bitterly. “Aren't you?”

Kraglin had to give her that. His own bounties weren't nothing as impressive as Yondu's had been, but they weren't too shabby.

“They here yet?” He leaned forward, scanning the ships he could see as they cruised into the spaceport.

“They're here to rendezvous with their battleship in two days. We have to figure out where they're staying.”

Kraglin considered. The places he and Yondu would've taken a hostage to lay low wouldn't be where Kree soldiers would go. “You do a lot of hostage takin’ when you were workin’ for Thanos?”

“Rarely. Gamora was more suited for that than I was. I was more useful for intimidation and assassinations.” Nebula sounded pretty sore about it, so Kraglin didn't push.

“Well, I done my share o’ extortion usin’ people as collateral,” he said humbly. “Soldiers think different than Ravagers though. They won't be holed up in the same sorta shithole I'd take a hostage to.”

Nebula snorted. “You forget. I spent time with the Kree. I know how they think.”

He hadn't forgotten, but he hadn't really wanted to bring it up.

“They will keep her in the jail. No local officials will challenge them. An Accuser gets whatever they want in this part of space.” Nebula looked satisfied.

Kraglin was less so. “I hate breakin’ into jails,” he told her. “They're always a bitch t’ get out of.”

“Did you want to wait with the ship?” Nebula asked, heavy with sarcasm.

Kraglin scowled. “Never said I wasn't gonna do it.”

She smirked and rose from her seat in a fluid motion, striding past him to go check the hold was secure before they docked. 

Kraglin manfully avoided checking out her ass. They had two days to plan and execute a break in, and a Kree battleship bearing down on them if they weren't fast enough. He needed to focus.

Somewhere, Yondu was laughing at him. He could almost hear that raspy chuckle and the accompanying _Kraggles, yer too damn easy. Lookit you, middle o’ Kree space with twelve percent of a plan, and all fer a girl. You got a type, darlin’?_

He did and he knew it. It was a problem.

\---

It was a lucky thing so many of the races seeded all over the galaxy looked the same. Otherwise a Xandarian waltzing down the street would be an issue. Bad enough he'd had to change out of his reds for this; the Kree remembered who had been behind Ronan’s failure at Xandar. That little fact still filled Kraglin with pride, but this wasn't quite the time for it.

Nebula walked quickly for such a small woman, and Kraglin found himself falling a comfortable half step behind her to the right. They both scanned the crowds for any signs of suspicious activity, but mostly Kraglin saw folks going about their business. The nondescript pants Nebula had shoved at him were too big and bunched uncomfortably around the arrow holster, so he was half distracted trying not to walk funny and give the game away.

He managed not to crash into her back when she stopped abruptly in front of what looked like a mid-range chain hotel. Kraglin peered dubiously at the cheerful sign. “This ain't quite what I was thinkin’ for a place to hole up,” he said, scratching the edge of the implant. It itched something fierce.

“Stop that,” Nebula snapped at him, and his hand dropped without thinking. “This place is generic. It's perfect for passing through unnoticed.”

“We don't exactly look like tourists,” Kraglin felt obligated to point out.

The look that earned him was enough to shut him up all through the whole check-in process. 

He didn't bother asking where Nebula’d gotten the fake identification for both of them, but he was impressed at the quality. Too bad he wouldn't be able to keep using the alias she'd made him after this job.

“I have the floor plan for the jail,” she told him as soon as the door shut behind them. She'd booked them into a single room with a depressingly small double bed and some ugly ass paintings of Hala in the summer hanging on the walls. Kraglin cracked his neck and resigned himself to pulling an all-nighter, because Nebula clearly meant business.

“Okay.” He plopped his ass on the bed and looked at her. “Think we can eat while we plan? I didn't get any breakfast.” 

To her credit, she looked briefly guilty about dragging him out of bed and into Kree space. “Fine. Call room service.”

“You want anything?”

“I don't need to eat more than once every few days. My father wanted me to be efficient.” 

Kraglin didn't wanna think about what that entailed. “That don't mean you can't have a snack?” he suggested.

She gave him a sharp look, but softened and finally said, “I'll have a sandwich, I suppose. No sauce. Kree condiments don't agree with me.”

Kraglin nodded sagely as he opened the menu. Then stopped at the sight of the spiky, unidentifiable symbols. “You read Kree?”

She sighed aggressively, throwing down the knife she'd pulled from her boot and stomping over. “You never learned to read Kree?” she demanded.

“Lady, I only learned t’ read Xandarian because Cap'n barely could,” he snapped, and then felt like shit. Yondu didn't like anyone knowing about that. An awkward silence fell between them.

She peered up into his face. “...fine. I'll order.”

Kraglin looked away. His eyes had started prickling again. Damned annoying, that. It was harder to convince himself it was dust from the Quadrant’s shitty duct system out here.

He was distantly aware of Nebula’s voice ordering two sandwiches from room service. It occurred to him that she was being kind, letting him pull himself together without gawking.

She really was a weird girl, that Nebula.

\---

Turned out Kree condiments didn't agree with him either. Whatever they put in the sauce managed to be the perfect formula for inducing fiery shits twenty minutes after you ate the stuff.

“I warned you,” Nebula snapped from the other side of the bathroom door. “I ordered it on the side just in case.”

“It do this every time?” Kraglin asked miserably. It explained a few things about Yondu's eating habits. Kraglin’d always just figured he was picky.

There was a pause. “Yes,” she answered shortly. 

“Great.” He could almost hear Yondu snickering at him. 

_Delicate li’l thing, ain't ya, Krags? Shoulda tried the slop they fed us in the pens._

He reached over and tried to turn the fan higher so Nebula didn't have to hear the incoming bout of diarrhea. In his limited experience with women, girls never wanted to fuck you once you'd farted in front of ‘em. Not like he'd had a chance with her anyway, but Kraglin liked to make a good impression.

He heard Nebula sigh, which meant she could hear everything, and then she sat down and thumped her back against the door.

“It will pass within the hour,” she said. “I can find some protein drinks then.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“I won't compromise this job by having you dehydrated.” Her tone sharpened, like she thought he was gonna argue with her.

Not likely. She could bust the door down and kill him on the damn toilet if he sassed her. Besides, Kraglin learned a long time ago to keep his mouth shut when people were repressing feelings an’ shit.

“So you said you had the floor plan for the jail?” he asked, resigned to the fact that this was his life now. 

“Yes. They expect no rescue attempts this far into their territory, so the building will be relatively easy to break into.” 

“How far is it from the spacedock?”

She considered. “Roughly twenty kilometers.”

“Long way t’ go draggin’ a civilian while people are chasin' ya,” he commented wryly, reaching optimistically for the toilet paper.

Too optimistically. “I could drag her. You could go back to the ship,” Nebula suggested. “You can steal a transport while they're distracted chasing me.”

That plan stunk almost as much as the bathroom. “I'm not too keen on splittin’ up,” he told her. “More chance for things to go sideways if we don't know what the other one’s doin’.”

Nebula grunted. “Quill carries off stupid plans all the time. This isn't half as reckless as some of his.”

“Quill’s a special kinda stupid,” Kraglin pointed out.

She huffed what might've been a laugh. After a pause she asked, “are you feeling any better?”

“Not yet.” Kraglin scratched the implant on his head idly. It didn't itch now like it had when Rocket first put it in, but it still prickled below the skin with these weird sensations he couldn't make sense of.

“I should have left the sauce off entirely.” Nebula didn't sound sorry, but he could tell she was.

“Ain't the first time I done a mission with the runs,” he reassured her. “Won't kill me.” Might kill her if she had to get in the bathroom anytime soon, but while Yondu would've made that crack, Nebula apparently had more class. “I s’pose they already stuck her in the jail, huh? No chance of movin’ her?”

“Would you move a prisoner from a secure location for no reason?” asked Nebula.

“Nah. But I just got t’ thinkin’ we could make a reason for ‘em to move her.”

“Oh?” She sounded intrigued.

“You like t’ burn stuff?”

\---

They took the next day to scope the area around the jail, watching the shift rotations and sipping on protein shakes. Nebula had a knitted hat pulled down over her distinctive bald head; it looked weird paired with her scowl. There was no disguising Kraglin, not with his big ol’ fin giving him an extra eight inches of height. He settled for slouching next to Nebula with his hands in his pockets.

Once he'd finally stopped shitting his brains out last night, she'd presented him with a protein shake in yahro root flavor. He might've been dizzy from dehydration, but he thought she looked sorta sheepish. They'd sat in companionable silence while he drank it, and once he'd finished she'd shut the lights off and shoved his shoulder back onto the bed. For a wild second he'd thought things were gonna get good, but she'd just curled up next to him and told him they were getting an early start tomorrow.

Kraglin hadn't slept next to anyone else since Yondu-

Well. It'd been awhile. And sharing a bed with Yondu had meant dealing with snoring you could hear from three decks away, cold scaly feet on your leg, and occasional nightmares that Kraglin would hold him through and never mention after.

Nebula slept silent and still. He could hear her quiet, even breaths, but aside from that, it was a bit like laying next to a corpse.

She hadn't acted like it was anything weird, sharing a bed with him. And if she wasn't gonna make it weird, he sure wouldn't. Nebula looked sorta cute, right when she first woke up. The girl had proper doe eyes when she wasn't doing her intense staring thing.

At the moment she was doing her intense staring thing at the employee door of the jail, watching people come and go and noting details in the data jack wired into her arm.

For his part, Kraglin was scoping out the surrounding area, checking civilian traffic patterns and taking note of when the busy times were. They'd agreed to do their distraction in the afternoon, right after the day shift went home. Newbies got saddled with night duty, which just made it easier to herd them all in the direction Kraglin wanted them. 

“You are sure you can convincingly make it look like an accident?” Nebula asked in a low voice.

“Done it before, he answered, rubbing his scalp. The implant was tingling again; he'd noticed it getting worse when he was planetside. Must be interference from the atmosphere or something.

_No one’s gonna believe it's an accident, idjit. This ain't the Nova Corps yer dealin’ with._

Kraglin shook his head. “Faulty electrical leads t’ all kinds o’ problems.”

Nebula looked doubtful, but he knew this wasn't her wheelhouse. She'd brought him along because she needed someone sneaky. Why she didn't want her sister along was anyone's guess.

Except that wasn't quite true. Kraglin might play the part well, but he wasn't stupid. Dealing with Nebula wasn't all that different than dealing with Yondu, once you got past the surface stuff. Yondu would invite Kraglin out on solos too, early on, before they'd started sharing Yondu's cabin for more than just hasty fucks. Kraglin had caught on pretty quick what the cap’n wouldn't say, namely, that he wanted to spend time alone with Kraglin. 

He gave Nebula a sidelong glance, remembering what he'd been too worried about Yondu to appreciate at the time. She'd looked mighty pretty in the borrowed red jumpsuit they'd given her, flame patch burning on her shoulder. Looked right on her, like maybe there should've been another life where she fit with them. Him and Yondu.

The arrow twitched against his leg, making him jump and getting him a sharp look from Nebula. He muttered an apology and rubbed his leg, despairing of ever learning to control the damned thing.

\---

The plan, when it came down to it, was pretty simple.

Kraglin taped one of Rocket's homemade goodies onto the incoming electric lines to the jail. Once it was triggered, it started a fire that spread quick enough to force an evacuation. While the Accuser’s guards were taking the prisoner back to their ship, Nebula jumped them. 

Kraglin stashed the bodies behind some trash bins and looked at Nebula. “She okay?”

Nebula nodded, eyes on the cuffs she was trying to unlock. The Shi’ar politician, whose name Kraglin still didn't know, was wide eyed with fear but holding together pretty well. She kept still while Nebula used the different tools on her fingers to pick the lock. “We have to get back to the ship. A Shi’ar in this place will be noticed.”

“Leave the cuffs on me,” the woman suggested. “Can't you just treat me like a prisoner and uncuff me later?”

“No. Shut up.” Nebula smirked viciously as the cuffs popped open with a click. She jerked her head in the direction of the spacedock. “Come on.”

Of course, that was when the first guard’s comm crackled to life. _“Where are you?”_ a gruff voice snapped. _“We don't see you anywhere. Respond!”_

Kraglin and Nebula both froze, meeting each other's eyes over the head of the now whimpering Shi’ar woman. Neither of them wasted breath on words; they started running.

Kraglin split off and threw himself under the nearest transport, yanking the metal cover off the control panel and pulling out the appropriate wires. 

“Hurry!” the woman hissed.

“Don't distract him,” growled Nebula.

“Got it,” Kraglin grunted as the transport sputtered to life. He sat up to see Nebula already in the driver’s seat, the woman in the back. He flung himself into the passenger’s side as she punched it.

They made it almost halfway before shots rocked the transport, knocking them nearly off the road before Nebula managed to get them back under control. She had her teeth bared as she cranked on the wheel to take them down a side road.

Kraglin pulled a blaster and powered it up. “On it,” he said before Nebula had a chance to snap at him. He leaned out the window to see what they were up against.

Four transports with big beefy Kree soldiers hanging out the windows. Lots of guns. That's what they were up against.

“You're gonna wanna drive faster,” he told Nebula as he aimed for the engine of the one closest to them. It exploded with a satisfying fireball that took out the one next to it.

Whoever had taught Nebula to drive, he decided as he ducked back into the transport, was balls-to-the-wall crazy. She swerved into oncoming traffic with an unholy roar, scattering vehicles and scaring the hell outta the poor woman they were supposed to be saving. Kraglin could hear the crashing sounds and shrieks behind them of the poor bastards that had tried to get out of their way.

Girl was nuts. Made her even more attractive, if you asked Kraglin.

He spotted another transport cutting across a cross-street to get to them. The Kree weren't stupid; didn't take geniuses to figure out they were headed for the spacedock anyway. If they could blow up the transport before they got there, that'd do, but they'd be cut off from the ship either way.

_Told ya. This ain't like dealin’ with th’ Nova Corps. Better hope them bounties on yer head getcha killed ‘steada sold._

Kraglin bared his teeth and sent a spray of plasma at the fuckers. If they were gonna die here then he was taking as many with him as he could.

Nebula yelled his name, which probably saved him. Kraglin looked up in time to see the transport cut them off, and then Nebula cranked the wheel to the side and his vision was cut off. He jumped for it; the transport skidded driver’s side first into the Kree vehicle as he rolled to his feet. He heard the Shi'ar woman screeching over the sound of squealing metal and hurried toward the transport.

That was when the lights came on, pinning him down in the crosshairs of a Kree necrocraft.

\---

So that's how he got here, staring up into certain death with Kree soldiers advancing on him with their blasters raised.

The ship is hovering right in front of him, taking up his field of vision. He's squinting, trying to see past the glaring lights to where the transport is smoking. 

There's movement, and then Kree soldiers are shouting in terror as Nebula kicks open the door and flies at one, snapping his neck before she's onto the next one. Kraglin's never seen her fight before, and she's beautiful, all deadly grace and power as she punches clean through a Kree’s chest.

Then a bolt of energy hits her and she goes down with a shriek, jerking.

Kraglin can't breathe.

He's staring at her body as it goes still, feeling a high ringing somewhere between his ears and the implant. She's so still, just like Yondu was when they pulled Quill off him. Frozen stiff, while Kraglin stands there helpless, staring because there's nothing else he can do, because it's too late to do anything--

_Kraglin!_

Something's happening. The ringing in his ears is deafening. He's gonna die here and so is Nebula. They're surrounded, no way out. He can't even hear the words the Kree soldiers are shouting at him, something about hands in the air. He's got his hands in the air, eyes shut tight so he won't have to watch Nebula die. Not like Yondu. He can't do that again. 

The ringing is getting louder and faster in time with his heartbeat, pounding out a rhythm of Yondu, Yondu, _Yondu--_

The whistle don't even feel like it comes from him. It's punched out of some space behind his lungs, Yondu's voice in his head shouting at him to _stop thinkin’ already, kill ‘em!_

And he can feel the arrow moving where he wants it, even though he has his eyes squeezed shut tight, breathing in hard through his nose so he can keep forcing air between his teeth. These ain't sounds he's ever made before, high, piercing notes that almost drown out the cries of dying Kree around him.

He _knows_ where they are, can feel the pulse of them trying to run, just like he can _feel_ Nebula and the cowering, sobbing Shi’ar lady. They thrum through his brain, glowing a little behind his eyes, and he can curl the arrow right around them as simple as breathing. 

_I told Quill an’ I'll tell you too. I don’ use my head t’ fly the arrow. An’ neither do you._

The ringing in his ears has died down. It's quiet, he realizes as he opens his eyes, dead silent except for the whistle still on his lips. The arrow darts back to him when he calls it, settling into the holster like it's tucking itself into bed. He stares at it, sliding a hand over the hot metal and feeling it shiver under his fingers. Just like Yondu always used to.

The ship wavers in midair for a second before it goes down with a deafening crash, downed with a single hole through its engine.

Kraglin knows what he heard. He'd know Yondu’s voice anywhere. Why he's hearing it in his head is something he's not sure he wants to look into.

_Quit actin’ stupid, darlin’. You know why._

“Kraglin!”

Nebula’s on her feet, staring at him like he's something dangerous. 

He can still feel her presence, a shining glow that lights up the implant and guides his feet to where she's standing. She looks okay, if a little scuffed up; her arm hangs limp at her side.

“You alright?” he asks anyway, because he wants to hear her speak to him. He needs to hear something that ain't his dead captain’s voice.

“I'm fine.” Nebula’s eyes move between his face and the arrow. “I thought you hadn't mastered it yet.”

That makes him laugh. And keep laughing. He can't stop even when she takes half a step back from him in alarm. “Master it?” he wheezes. “It don't work like that.”

Yondu had no master in life. If he did what Kraglin asked it was because he wanted to. Kraglin doesn't get how this all works, but he's always known this much.

Nebula purses her lips. “Either way. I'm grateful.”

That stops his laughter. He peers at her. “I got few enough friends left,” he says honestly. “Gotta look out for the ones I have.”

She looks away sharply, giving a terse nod. 

She's not happy, he can sense that much. Just like he can sense the Shi'ar woman's jittery impatience to get on a ship and out of Kree space, and the fear of all the bystanders who watched him murder a whole squadron.

“Come on,” he tells Nebula gently. Holds out a hand.

She looks at it, then at him. And reaches out to settle her cool, deceptively small hand in his.

\---

Nebula’s ship is a small one; they put the Shi'ar woman in one of the two bunks to rest as soon as they're out of Kree space and she's called her family. Poor lady's had a rough few days, and she's down for the count as soon as her head touches the mattress.

Kraglin pilots while Nebula fixes her arm in the seat next to him. The silence between them ain't as easy as it usually is; something's bothering her, and Kraglin's waiting for her to say her piece.

She flexes her fingers experimentally. “Why don't you blame me?” she finally asks.

There it is. He won't insult her by pretending he don't know what she's talking about. “Weren't your fault.”

“I was partially to blame. I shot your--captain.” Kraglin notes how she stumbles over the word and raises an eyebrow.

“You did. An’ I'm the one who started the standoff by runnin’ my damn mouth. But it was Taserface and the rest of ‘em that killed my friends. You stopped ‘em from killing Rocket and the Cap’n.” He squints at her. “Why'd you do that?”

Nebula’s shoulders hunch defensively and she turns away to begin packing up her tools. Kraglin watches the way her spine curves, disappointed, before turning back to the viewport. He'd wondered what had been going through her head for months now.

He almost doesn't hear her when she says, “I saw the look on your face.”

For a second he can't process what he heard. He stares out at the stars, watching them slip past. “Bullshit,” he whispers before he can think.

She whips her head around to pin him with a blistering glare. “You call me a liar? I can read a room, Kraglin, and I saw you looking at him the entire time. If they had tried to kill him, you would have gone for your weapons, and then you all would have been dead.”

“Why were you lookin’ at me?” he asks tonelessly. “I didn't do nothing.”

She stares at him with those big black eyes. “I know the look of a man who's lost everything.”

Kraglin swallows. 

“And,” she adds, “I have _eyes_.”

With that she promptly gets up and flees the cockpit, leaving Kraglin alone to figure out what he's supposed to do with _that._

\---

He pets the arrow absently, sitting alone in the cockpit. Goes over everything now that he ain't about to die.

He closes his eyes and tries to remember the humming feeling that'd come right before he'd whistled.

_Yer overthinkin’ it, Kraglin._

And there it is.

“Shoulda known you'd find a way t’ stick around,” he mutters fondly.

_Took ya long enough, idjit. The hell’d you think stickin’ my fin on yer head was gonna do?_

“Turned out better’n I thought,” he whispers, swallowing the lump in his throat. He's not crying again. Yondu always hated crying.

Sure enough, a hum of angry energy buzzes in his skull. _Cut that shit out. I went out th’ way I wanted. Better’n anythin’ else I coulda done with my sorry ass._

“You coulda stayed with us.” Kraglin closes his eyes. He can feel the arrow thrumming against his leg and it makes him smile. “I just miss you, is all.”

 _I ain't gone_ , Yondu mutters in his head, and Kraglin supposes that's true enough. He leans back in his seat and slouches, getting comfortable.

He thinks about Nebula, about that shy look she tossed him before she left the cockpit. He thinks she might've wanted him to follow her into the second bunk. It's not the right time for that, he knows, but he still thinks about it. Thinks about blue skin and black eyes, so different from the red ones he loved but still awfully pretty. He thinks he wouldn't mind following her into more ridiculous shit.

After all, he's got a type.


End file.
